Prompt: "I haven't made a promise in several thousand years, but I promise you this, if you harm a single hair on their head, I will end you. I will smile as I bathe in your blood."
Thranduil just wants to have a bit of fun, and fails to remember that Elrond was raised by Feanorians.
It was rare that Thranduil journeyed out of his realm, paranoid as he was and dependent as the realm was on him. When he did, however, he brought with him all the luxuries he enjoyed at home. It was not as if he needed these things and would throw a fit if denied them, but they were nice and since he could have them, he did. Thranduil preferred the best when it came to anything he interacted with. Plush pillows, vintage wines, perfectly forged swords and healthy flowers. Of course, company was also included in this list. Male or female elves, one, two or eight, Thranduil wasn't picky in that regard.
Lord Elrond was, to Thranduil's tastes, possibly the most drab, bookish, elf he had ever met. Of course the elf lord was smart, but not smart enough to take up the role of high king. Thranduil was left incredibly bored on his visits to Imladris, but since Lady Galadriel had asked (ordered) him to make an appearance, he would.
Upon entering the valley, Thranduil found himself greeted by a lovely young elleon with a musical voice. "Welcome to the valley, King Thranduil." Lindir bowed, forcing his voice to remain steady. "Lord Elrond is seeing to a horse related emergency, but he should be here any minute."
At that very moment, a frowning Elrond appeared from around a corner. "My apologies for keeping you waiting, King Thranduil."
"No worries my friend, I know you endeavor to do your best." Thranduil smirked, fully aware of the poke he had made at the uptight elf lord. "Lindir here has been lovely company."
Elrond's frown deepened, though Thranduil dismissed it as Elrond overthinking the verbal slight. Elrond made his way to stand next to Lindir, and composing himself, offered, "Lindir will show you to your quarters. There is food in the communal hall, or if you prefer, you may ask for something to be brought to your rooms. This evening, there will be a formal meal in the main hall. The gardens-"
"Yes yes, I know the drill." Thranduil dismounted his elk, and a stable hand ran forward to lead the beast away.
"The windows overlook the waterfalls, and as the sun sets sometimes the light will catch and make rainbows." Lindir was giving Thranduil a brief tour of the rooms.
"Mhm. Beautiful." Thranduil was watching Lindir, observing his fair countenance. "Say, my dear, what do you do in the valley?"
Lindir turned wide eyes to Thranduil, "Oh um, really whatever Lord Elrond needs. I enjoy playing music, sometimes I perform and sometimes I play just for Lord Elrond. I have to greet people when they arrive if Lord Elrond is unavailable... which can be good or bad. Once it was dwarves. They bathed in our fountain."
Thranduil made a sound of sympathy at Lindir's wince. "Your Lord Elrond just lets them all in?"
"Yeah." Lindir sighed, "I appreciate his generous heart, but the dwarves were difficult to deal with."
"Hmm. We have little dealings with dwarves after several similar experiences in my kingdom." Thranduil sidled forward to where Lindir stood, so that the minstrel was trapped against the couch. Lowering his voice a little and leaning forward, Thranduil continued, "Perhaps you would like to visit some time. I could give you a personal tour, if you so desired."
"No thank you!" Was Lindir's panicked response as he jerked away, all but running from the room. "Dinner will be at seven!"
Thranduil smiled at this reaction. A flighty one. Thranduil might have to spend extra time in Imladris in order to coax the elf out of hiding.
Thranduil made his way to the main hall for dinner, dressed in a form fitting purple robe with gold details, and a crown of woven flowers. They were fresh from the gardens, and Thranduil felt that their gold and purple coloring matched the warm summer breezes. His personal attendants had been particularly competent this evening, and that had greatly aided his mood. Upon entering the halls, he made his way to where Lord Elrond was. The circular table was no different than the others spread about the hall and filled with chattering elves, though Thranduil recognized Lord Glorfindel and Chief Advisor Erestor.
"Good evening, Thranduil." Elrond greeted as Thranduil took a seat to the left of the lord. Elrond beckoned over an attendant to read out the menu.
About halfway through the meal, Lindir joined the group. "Everything is ready for this evening's performance, my lord."
"Good, come sit with us Lindir." Elrond invited, and Lindir smiled as he took the seat to Elrond's right.
Thranduil leaned forward to make eye contact with Lindir, and when successful, sent him a wink. Throughout the meal, Thranduil continued this behavior. He watched Lindir with intentionally heated eyes, and cleaned his silverware with obscene movements of his tongue. This inappropriate behavior seemed to make Elrond tense up more and more, which was why Thranduil abandoned his plan of coaxing Lindir out of his shell in favor of increasingly sexual gestures.
Lindir ended up ignoring Thranduil entirely after sending Elrond an uncomfortable look. Thranduil could only assume that Elrond had placed a steadying hand on his friend's thigh under the table. Soon, it was time to move into the Hall of Fire to hear Imladris' best minstrels perform.
Lindir was up first, playing an enchanting and upbeat melody on the flute that brought everyone's attention to the area where the next minstrels would be performing. Throughout the evening, Lindir played several different parts in several different bands. Thranduil found himself entranced by the quiet passion that fueled the outstanding performances, and his eyes were drawn constantly to Lindir. No true feelings budded, but Thranduil was hopeful of catching the musician alone again that evening.
When Lord Elrond made to say goodnight and leave the hall, Thranduil followed him outside.
"My Lord!" Lindir rushed over towards them, before noticing Thranduil and glancing at Lord Elrond unsurely.
"My sweetling," Thranduil crooned to Lindir, watching out of the side of his eye with anticipation as Elrond ground his jaw. "I seem to have forgotten the way to my rooms, perhaps you could lead the way?"
"Lindir is off duty at the moment," Elrond interrupted. "I will have one of the staff-"
"Then would you consider sharing a little dessert with me, in my rooms?" Thranduil rejoiced in the full body twitch Elrond gave.
"No thank you." Lindir stated simply, moving behind Lord Elrond.
"Oh, surely you must have some interest in dessert." Thranduil decided to mess with Lord Elrond just a bit more. How much would it take to really get Elrond mad?
"Go home Lindir, Thranduil and I must have a conversation." Elrond's voice was surprisingly pleasant, honeyed and melodious in a way Thranduil had never heard from one that was not Ainur. "Follow me, your highness. Let us find a more public place."
Thranduil, assuming that he would likely be issued a warning for harassing Lindir or warned of some traumatic experience Lindir had been through, followed Lord Elrond without hesitation. Several minutes later, they came to a veranda over a long drop down to the bottom of the large waterfall that ran through the center of Rivendell. Thranduil walked to the rail to inspect the view, immediately noticing the lack of rail that protected most every other outlook within the city.
"A gorgeous view Elrond," Thranduil began to turn around, "But-" A blade at his throat cut him off. Thranduil observed the angered elf lord holding the blade with practiced ease, the embers that usually rested in his eyes smoldering with flame.
"I will give you one warning, and one warning only." Elrond's words were clipped, and his accent distinctly Feanorian.
Thranduil felt his heart pound, reminded clearly of the stories of the potent rage of Maglor Feanorian. How smooth, melodious words could turn to cruel and brutal rage in half a heartbeat, and within the other half, the opposing elf would drop dead. Thranduil, paralyzed by the realization that this gentle elf had in fact been raised by Maedhros himself, could only stare at Elrond.
"I have not made a promise in roughly three thousand years, but I swear this, if you harm a single hair on Lindir's head, I will slaughter you as my fathers slaughtered your kin. I will bathe in your blood, and grin in triumph at your utter destruction." Elrond's voice was beautiful and terrible, unearthly and holy, yet repulsive at the same time. Thranduil felt himself freeze, not daring to move a millimeter.
"I will not touch a single hair on his head, I swear it." At Thranduil's words, the blade was removed from his throat, and Elrond gave a gentle smile.
"I value our friendship, King Thranduil. It would be a shame if something as petty as a squabble were to ruin it." Without waiting for a response, Elrond turned and disappeared into the darkness.
Thranduil took his time returning to the common paths of the city, still shaken from the unexpected violence that Elrond had expressed earlier. He wondered why Elrond was so protective of a single elf at all, it was unlikely even for a father to be so overprotective.
As Thranduil pondered, laughter from a window reached his ears. As he glanced up with general curiosity, he was surprised to see what appeared to be Lindir and Elrond sitting in a windowsill, Lindir with his back to Elrond's chest as the lord braided the minstrel's hair. Lindir was the one who had laughed. Elrond noticed Thranduil, and as they made eye contact, Elrond sent a smug wink to Thranduil.
Not to be outdone, even while coming to conclusions, Thranduil winked back and mouthed 'Nice catch.' Elrond rolled his eyes, and Thranduil turned away to continue his journey. Tomorrow they would meet again, and it would be as if nothing had ever happened.